


The Last Dance

by LibbyWeasley



Series: Just Friends [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Oblivious Nerds, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Shagging on a Shag Rug, sex on the floor, sort of mutual pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 08:04:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17463719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWeasley/pseuds/LibbyWeasley
Summary: Fitz and Jemma attend a holiday party with their dates and then go back to their flat to do some problem solving.





	The Last Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This is part three of Just Friends, but also the first square I'm filling for Kink Bingo! This fic fills the square for "Dancing."
> 
> A big thanks to @blancasplayground for not only being an awesome beta, but for also agreeing to do Kink Bingo with me :)

Fitz tugged at the collar of his shirt, wondering how it had gotten so warm. Though logically he knew it was probably a combination of the alcohol, the bright lights, and all the bodies squeezed into the hotel ballroom where the Sci-Ops holiday party was being held. The “holiday party” was for some reason held in the early weeks of January each year. Fitz was unclear if it was for accounting purposes or because that meant all of the end-of-the-year research deadlines had been met, but either way it meant that he was sitting here next to Emily instead of at home with Jemma where he would much rather be.

It had been months since the first time they had slept together. And now every week or so Jemma would take his hand and lead him to her bedroom when they were stuck on a seemingly impossible problem, or he would pull her into his room after they’d completed a big project.

Fitz was starting to wonder if it was more than sex. Of course it was more than sex, it was Jemma. Simmons. He had to keep reminding himself to call her that when they were at work, because now he mostly thought of her as Jemma. The siren who continuously led him astray. Not that he was complaining. Those moments when he was buried deep inside her and she was moaning his name were the best part of his week. And when they weren’t together, they were still together —working, talking, spending time together. He had never been so happy. Which was why he wondered if this was something more. Not that she had given him any indication. Other than the fact that she kept inviting him to bed. But they could do that and still be friends, right? Whatever it was, he didn’t want to mess it up. He couldn’t imagine things going back to the way they were before.

Shaking his head, he looked away from Jemma, realizing he’d been staring at her, uh, dress while his date had been trying to get his attention.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, agreeing with whatever Emily had said. That bit of genius he had picked up from Jemma’s date, Milton. Just agree with whatever your date said, and that freed up all of your brainpower to focus on more important things. Like how exactly Jemma’s dress was constructed. The red fabric was stretchy and clingy, hugging her curves in a way that made his trousers tight and his fingers itch to touch her. But somehow it also draped artfully across her cleavage, only hinting at what lay underneath.

He knew what was under there. Soft skin and perfect pink nipples that begged for his touch. And to make matters worse, during this interminable party at least, he also knew that if he asked she would let him peel the fabric from her body and replace it with his hands and tongue. All that was left of this party now was the rest of dinner and some dancing. Then they could ditch their dates and head home. And no one had to know what happened once they were alone.

He noticed Jemma shooting him a warning glance and realized he must have been staring at her again. Milton took her hand and she smiled at her date before allowing herself to be led towards the dance floor.

“Oh, I’d love to dance,” came the soft, sweet voice of the woman next to him. Her expertise was in electronics and she was brilliant. Not in the same league as Jemma, of course, but still very talented. But he didn’t really feel a spark when he was with her. Luckily, tonight was more like a group date. They had all paired off, for some reason the Sci-Ops event planner needed couples in order to create a seating chart and no one had time for relationships outside of the people they knew from work, but they had all arrived separately and would be going home separately.

Fitz looked around, trying to find someone for Emily to dance with, only to find they were the only two still seated at the table. The rest of the their friends were already out on the dance floor, whether from an actual desire to dance, or an appropriate amount of alcohol to make dancing inevitable. Not seeing another option, Fitz scooted his chair back and offered a hand to Emily. She smiled at him and stood so they could walk hand in hand towards their friends.

The music was loud with a heavy bass that thrummed through his body. Exactly the sort of music he hated trying to dance to. He tried bending his knees and knocking haphazardly into Emily. It looked to be a reasonable approximation of what everyone else was doing, but she didn’t seem impressed. Eventually they ended up beside Jemma and Milton, and Emily made her way between the two of them. Fitz was actually impressed with her initiative. With Milton free from Jemma, Fitz was able to slide behind her, taking advantage of the press of bodies and the distraction of their friends to smooth his hands over her hips before squeezing her bum gently. Not that he really thought she wasn’t perfectly aware of the direction of his thoughts.

Jemma turned to face him, clearly ready to offer a reproach while they were out in public, but then the music changed and a slow song came through the speakers.

“I guess it’s your lucky day, Simmons. Slow dancing is my specialty.”

“So I’ve heard. Not that you ever dance, really,” she pointed out.

“I’m dancing now, aren’t I?” he grumbled, wrapping his arms around her waist while her fingertips rested lightly on his shoulders.

They swayed to the music for several beats, and Fitz felt completely surrounded by her. Her perfume, the scent of her shampoo. The feel of her in his arms. It was all Jemma. And he was ashamed to admit that he was having a Pavlovian response to her being this close.

“Fitz...you should pay more attention to your date —“

“I know, Simmons,” he interrupted before she could really get going. “I know. It’s just hard with you looking like that.”

“What’s hard, Fitz?” she asked with an air of innocence. And that’s when he noticed that her fingers were twisted into his jacket and she had moved even closer to him. They were in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by their co-workers, but it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“You _know_ what, Jemma,” he whispered in her ear and felt her shiver. Emboldened by the reaction his words had on her, he let his hands drift lower until she dropped her head to his chest with a groan.

“Maybe we could leave early,” she suggested. “I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around the dendrotoxin project and I think you could help me.” He felt his pulse quicken, but immediately shook his head.

“You know we have to stay until everyone else is ready to go. We can’t leave our dates alone. Let’s just dance. Have fun. We don’t have to go into the office tomorrow, after all, so it’s alright if we have a late night, uh, working.”

She didn’t respond, just continued to move in time with the music. Dancing with her was torture. He was so close to uncovering the mystery of her red dress, yet so far away. He willed time to pass more quickly, and eventually the music changed and they moved on to other partners, Jemma dancing with Jason and Fitz ending up with Sally.

Dancing with Sally afforded him plenty of opportunities to observe Jemma and he was gratified with just how often her eyes sought his out through the crowd.

An hour later it seemed like the party would finally be wrapping up. Fitz was finishing his beer, having found a good excuse not to participate in the gyrating and groping that passed for dancing. There was only one person he wanted to grind against and feel up, and since she was currently surrounded by their friends —and he had no claim on her at all— he didn’t think she would appreciate that. So he watched her from a distance, surprised when Milton sidled up next to him.

“Simmons is wonderful isn’t she?” Milton asked. Which was strange because Milton generally seemed to understand that Fitz wasn’t really his friend. Must be all the alcohol.

“Yeah, she is,” Fitz agreed.

“Say, do you have any tips for how to ask her out?”

“Excuse me?” Fitz had been staring at Jemma again and must have misheard.

“You know, Simmons. She isn’t exactly like other women. What kinds of things does she like?”

Fitz took another drink of beer, trying to think of a nice way to tell Milton to fuck off. Jemma was special. If Milton didn’t even know how to ask her out properly, he certainly didn’t deserve her.

But then he noticed a man in a suit approaching Jemma.

“Not Jonathan,” he murmured.

“What?” Milton asked, following Fitz’s gaze. “Oh, Jonathan. That’s the guy Simmons was dating, right? The one who wanted to...right. Maybe I should go rescue her. Damsels in distress always like to be rescued.”

Fitz watched Milton walk away. It was like he didn’t know Jemma at all. And now she had two wankers to deal with.

It took a few minutes, but then she appeared at his side.

“Oh, Fitz. There you are. I think the party is almost over and I know I promised you the last dance.”

She had done no such thing, but he gathered from the way she was raising her eyebrow at him that he was supposed to go along with it.

“I almost thought you forgot,” he said, finishing his beer and depositing the bottle on the counter behind him. “Shall we?”

He held out his hand and she took it. Knowing that both Milton and Jonathan were watching he led them into the crowd, intending to double back and slip out the side door the caterers had used to bring in food.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he said, close to her ear.

“No, I really do want one last dance with you.”

She gave him a small smile and he knew he wouldn’t say no. She knew it too. It seemed like it really was the last dance, thank god, because the music changed again, into a slow, end of the night song, designed to send couples out into the cold night air in a good mood.

Mimicking the couples around them, and given how close he could see his coworkers getting during this party it seemed like there was really no consideration for section 17 at all, he pulled Jemma close. At least this time he knew they’d be going home soon, so he could allow his imagination free rein.

Jemma wrapped her arms around his neck and he reached for her waist. This was how things usually started when they had sex. Followed by kissing and then clothing being tossed on the floor. But this position worked for dancing too.

“Fitz...I have a problem.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she answered with a smile. “I have been stuck on this dendrotoxin problem for a week now.”

“Have you now?” he asked conversationally, though his body recognized the hidden meaning in her words.

“Mmm-hmm. I thought it was a lab problem, but it seems more like an issue with how I'm thinking about the project.”

If it had been a week, that meant it had been since they last time they had spent the night together in her room. Memories of that night and the way she had looked when she rolled on top of him made him temporarily forget what he was doing. He stumbled a little and wrapped his arms tightly around her back to keep from falling. The sudden change in position brought her breasts against his chest and their hips close together.

“I can help,” he said, stepping back and tugging her off to the side of the room to grab their coats. There was no reason to stay here any longer. If he let go of her hand, Milton or Jonathan would probably try to claim her. But she didn’t want them. She wanted him. And he was starting to feel much more possessive of his best friend than he should be.

 

* * *

 

They didn’t speak on the cab ride back to their flat. They had made a habit of not talking about their arrangement. But she had asked Fitz for his help and he seemed eager. She wondered for a minute if she was taking advantage of him. But he always seemed satisfied by their activities, and surely he’d say something if he wasn’t okay with this new development in their friendship. To her it just felt like the next logical step. Fitz was far superior to anyone else at that party and who had time to develop a relationship outside of SHIELD?

But her patience was at an end by the time she pushed open the door to their flat, forcibly enough to slam it against the wall, and then Fitz was there closing the door and pushing her against it, molding the length of his body against hers. It was everything she had wanted all evening. All week really. His kisses were like a drug and she never wanted to give him up. He moved his attentions to her neck and she moaned, digging her nails into the fabric of his coat.

Frantically attacking the buttons of her coat, she shrugged out of it before turning her attention to pushing his coat off his shoulders. She needed to touch him.

He sucked at her pulse point, letting his teeth drag across her skin before soothing over the spot with his tongue. Fitz was nothing if not a fast learner, and she loved him for it. Not romantic love or anything. His curiosity was one of the things that made him such a great partner...and platonic friend.

She reached for his belt and tugged at the zipper on his trousers while he kissed across the tops of her breasts.

“I’ve been wondering all night,” he said, slipping a finger under the strap of her dress, “how this bloody thing is put together.”

His finger traced over the skin near the strap and then across the tops of her breasts, slipping under her dress.

“Why don’t you investigate for yourself?” She turned around so he could slide the zipper down the back of her dress. Fitz pulled the zipper down slowly. Much too slowly for her liking, and she made an impatient sound that made him laugh.

His hands followed the path of the zipper, grazing gently across her back as he uncovered more skin. As the dress loosened, the front started to sag and she pulled the straps down her arms, holding the dress up with one arm across her body.

“Ahh...no bra.” Fitz’s voice was low and a little raspy with desire.

“No bra,” Jemma agreed as his hands wrapped around her body to cup her breasts. His hands were warm and he caressed her gently before rolling each of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Lust shot straight down to her clit and she leaned forward, not sure if her legs would hold her upright. Her dress slithered down to the floor.

“Fitz...please,” she pleaded, breathless.

Instead of answering, his lips descended on the back of her neck and he licked and nipped down her neck and across her shoulder.

Realizing she was standing at her front door in just her knickers, she pushed her arse back and rubbed against his erection. She continued to grind against him and reached back to tug his trousers down.

He let out a groan and released her to pull his pants down as well, letting out a frustrated huff when he realized he had to take his shoes off first. But then his clothes joined hers in a pile on the floor, and she pulled him down with her.

She laid down on her back while Fitz kissed across her stomach, fingers dipping under the elastic of her knickers.

“Have you had sex with anyone since --” She stopped talking to let out a squeak as he pulled her knickers down her legs, “--since the last time?”

“No...never.” He answered the same way every time, and every time it made her feel warm inside. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know.”

She closed her eyes as he moved further up her body and his lips closed around her nipple.

“Mmmmm...Fitz. Don’t stop.”

He switched his attention to her other nipple and she moved her legs so he was between them. The way he was touching her made her pussy pulse with need and she needed him inside her. Wriggling her back against the rug -- she had honestly never understood the appeal of the thick shag rug Fitz had wanted for the front hall, but she appreciated it now -- she wrapped her legs around his hips and used her heels to pull his body against her, his cock rubbing against her folds.

“Bloody hell, Jemma. You’re so wet,” Fitz murmured into her skin.

“I’ve been waiting all night,” she complained, rocking her hips restlessly beneath him. He felt warm and solid on top of her, but he still wasn’t quite where she wanted him. She wrapped her arms around him for more leverage, but he reached for her hands, interlocking their fingers and holding them together on the rug to either side of her before shifting his hips.

She relaxed her legs just enough for him to position his cock at her entrance and then tightened her legs again, pulling him inside. After the dancing, and the teasing, and watching him staring at her cleavage all night, she was nearly dizzy with want. Squeezing his hands tighter, she pushed her hips toward him and he slid deeper inside with a moan.

“Jemma.”

She would never get tired of him saying her name like that.

“Oh, Fitz. Faster and...oh!”

His hips moved faster and he adjusted their joined hands so he could lean down over her, pressing messy kisses everywhere he could reach.

This new position meant he wasn’t going as deep, but there was more friction on her clit and that was making it difficult to think straight.

“Fitz, Fitz, yes…”

She was probably babbling at this point, but he wasn’t doing any better, just saying her name over and over. She was so close, she just needed something to push her over the edge. Tightening her legs around him again she rocked with him and then his mouth settled on her neck.

“Not there,” she gasped, and he moved his lips closer to her collarbone before sucking hard on her skin.

Her orgasm exploded through her, sending tremors through her thighs as he continued to pump into her. His breathing was harsh and heavy and his thrusts became more erratic as the pulsing of her inner walls slowed.

“Jemma, I-I…”

She squeezed her muscles around him and he pushed deep one last time before coming with a loud moan.

They untangled their hands and he tried to roll to his side, but she held him in place with her arms and legs securely wrapped around his back. It felt nice to have him close.

“Not yet,” she said, eyes closed.

“You’re not the one whose naked arse is getting cold,” he grumbled, but settled down against her again anyway.

Once their breathing had slowed and heartbeats were settling back into their normal rhythms, Jemma started to feel the chill of the air. It turned out Fitz was right after all, not that she was going to tell him that.

But something wasn’t right. This was normally the moment where her brain recovered from the sex-induced fog and she solved whatever problem she was stuck on. But she still had no idea.

She chewed on her lip, lost in thought.

“Jemma…what’s wrong?”

Fitz shifted over and cool air covered her body, making her shiver.

She frowned.

“I still don’t know how to solve my dendrotoxin problem.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Fitz! This is important,” she insisted, half-heartedly pushing at his shoulder.

“Well...maybe, it doesn’t work on the floor.”

“Doesn’t work?”

“It’s hard and cold...just really uncomfortable here. I mean, the sex was amazing. Maybe the best even…”

Jemma felt a broad smile creep over her face despite her lack of progress on her project.

“I thought it was the best too.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“Right. Well, every other time has been in bed, yeah? So maybe you need to recreate the conditions for another scientific breakthrough.”

“So you think if we go to my room, then I’ll come up with an idea?” she asked skeptically.

“Well, we’d definitely be warmer. And you can tell me about your problem, and then we can see if you start to feel more _inspired_.”

“I’m not entirely sure if you are talking about solving the dendrotoxin delivery problem, or if you just want to have sex again. But either of those sounds good to me right now.”

Fitz stood quickly and she quirked an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say anything, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“What?” he asked. “I’m just really looking forward to an actual conversation, not that nonsense from the party tonight. Now c’mon, Simmons. Tell me about your dendrotoxin.”

Shaking her head, she followed him into her bedroom, still not sure if this was the best idea they’d ever had, or the worst. But either way she couldn’t imagine things going back to the way they were before.


End file.
